Second Chances
by KisaHeart22
Summary: This is a three part AU that takes place a few weeks after season three's mid-season finale. Peter has been completely miserable and he has nobody left to turn to except Rumplestiltskin's mother. She ends up helping him more than he ever expected. Panlix pairing.
1. Past Mistakes

PLEASE NOTE:

In this story, Peter had Rumple AFTER he had already been given eternal youth. It makes things less weird.

/

Laughter could be heard emitting from the small, wooden lodge as the boy drew closer to it. The wooden sign hanging above the front door read in bright gold, curvy letters, "Land of Oz." The boy simply stared at the sign for a moment before squaring his shoulders and carefully pressing the door open.

Inside, the building was dark and filled with smoke. Only the light from the windows and some candles illuminated the spacious room. There were tables and chairs scattered about the golden floor with a wooden stage at the far end and a bar set up to the left. Men and women were seated about the place, laughing and talking with drinks and cigars in hand. Nobody seemed to pay any mind to the young man that stepped through the doorway except for the waitresses.

A girl with blonde, bouncy, curly hair wearing a very risque, lace-up, pink dress that barely covered her butt or chest looked over at the boy in surprise, almost dropping the tray of drinks in her hands. She immediately set the tray down at an empty table and walked over to him, her white heels clicking on the golden floor and her thin arms swaying at her sides.

"Hello," she greeted, her voice sweet as honey and her bright blue eyes gazing up into his. Her face was porcelain, her cheeks rose and her lips pale pink. She smiled like she would have done absolutely anything for this newcomer.

"Can I get you anything? A drink? A room?" She asked, one of her eyebrows rising suggestively.

The boy took a deep breath.

"I think he's here for me," a voice suddenly stated from behind the blonde.

The two looked over to see another girl with long, orange-red hair tied with red ribbons into two braids casually walking over to them. The girl was wearing another provocative dress, this one blue plaid with white tulle peeking out beneath it around her thighs. Her stockings were also white but her four inch heels were a luscious red.

She stared the boy straight in the eyes as she stood before him, slightly taller. The tiny smirk on her face was filled with questions but also a sense of knowing. Of course he would come back when he realized there was no one left.

The blonde girl frowned at the red-head.

"You always get the best ones," she whined softly.

The taller girl smiled in amusement at her.

"You need to finish delivering those drinks to table eight, Goldilocks," the red-head responded, gently patting the girl on her shoulder.

Goldilocks ran her eyes over the boy's body once more before finally turning and sauntering away. The red-head looked back over at the boy, her smirk widening ever so slightly at the haggard look to his face.

"Follow me," she said simply, motioning with her hand and then heading towards the back of the room. She pushed open a wooden door next to the stage and entered a long hallway with doors on either side.

As the two made their way down to the very end, the girl cast a glance over her shoulder at the boy. She hadn't seen him for many years and he looked quite the worse for wear. Despite him still having a youthful appearance, his face was sunken in like he wasn't eating well and his normally bright, mischievous, blue eyes were dull and tired. He walked with a bit of a hunch as well, she noted, like it was painful for him to even be standing.

The girl stopped at the end of the hallway and waved her hand over the wall. A golden doorknob suddenly appeared. The boy merely watched as the girl turned and pushed the new door open.

The room was so tiny that the two purple satin couches took up almost the entire space. There was a small wooden table between them with three candles flickering on top of it, bathing the room in a warm glow.

The girl casually stepped inside and seated herself on the couch closest to the door. The boy walked in a bit slower, turning to shut the door behind him, before setting down himself at the other end of the same couch.

The two just sat there in silence for several minutes. The boy stared at the table in front of him unseeing, his gaze distant and weary. The red-head propped her elbow up on the back of the couch, her cheek resting in her hand, and crossed one leg over the other as she stared openly at the boy.

"It's been a long time, Peter," the girl finally spoke, her voice casual as her eyes observed his every movement.

The boy breathed in deeply, his chest shuddering a little with the action. He swallowed as he continued to stare at the table, his back hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees.

They sat there in silence for another minute before the red-head sighed and looked down at her lap in disappointment. She hadn't seen Peter in so many years. She knew the only reason he had even come to her now was because his entire world had fallen apart and he had literally nobody else to turn to. The girl had told him that night all those years ago that he was always welcome to come back anytime he needed a little pick-me-up. That was before she had dropped a child on his front steps and vanished without a trace though.

"How's the boy?" She finally asked, her green eyes uncaring to hide the sorrow that welled up in her heart as she stared at him again. "I know you didn't keep him for long. Is he at least still alive?"

"What do you care?" Peter asked, his voice hoarse but still managing to carry a scathing tone to it.

The girl smiled a little.

"Now, there's that fire I remember," she commented with a bit of pride and relief. At least she wasn't talking to a complete corpse.

Peter turned his head to finally meet the girl's gaze. His eyes were just so tired but they still carried a hint of scorn in them.

"He was well the last time I saw him. I think he's getting married soon to some young book girl," he said.

The red-head scoffed and shook her head a little, the smirk on her face was amused but disbelieving.

"Marriage, huh?" She asked with another shake of her head. "Hard to believe he's our son. I mean, look at us. We're not exactly happily ever after people."

Peter turned his head back around to stare at the table again, his gaze dark and distant.

The girl studied him for a few more moments, tugging at one of her braids absentmindedly, a nervous habit of hers. She dropped her gaze to the couch cushion between them.

"How's the other boy? The one you couldn't stop thinking about even on that night you were with me," she asked, keeping her eyes down. She pretended not to notice the way Peter's body went rigid, the way his entire demeanor seemed to change.

He cleared his throat.

"He's dead," he replied simply, his voice cracking only a little.

The girl turned her eyes back onto Peter, just staring at him for a moment.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she murmured quietly, her voice sincere. "I know how much you loved him. What happened, if I may ask?"

The girl saw pain flash across Peter's face before he managed to turn his head away. The way he shuddered briefly and sucked in a quiet, shaky breath told the red-head everything she needed to know. She didn't know how or why or the details involved but she knew somehow, someway, this was all Peter's fault. And wasn't it always? He was the cause of everyone's pain including his own. He never realized his mistakes until years after the fact and, by then, it was much too late.

She stared at Peter for a minute longer before glancing away and clearing her throat. She took a deep breath and looked back over at him with a perfectly placed, disinterested mask.

"He came in here, you know," she began conversationally. Peter's head immediately came back around to look at her with furrowed brows, confused and surprised.

"It was a few days after you had come by," the girl continued, keeping her gaze steady with his. "I knew he was yours from the way you had described him. Tall, gorgeous blonde, the strong and silent type, a bit awkward on his feet, not the brightest candle in the room but a decent fellow. It was pretty obvious." Peter swallowed, pain briefly flashing through his eyes.

"He said that he wanted to see the person that had managed to capture Peter Pan's heart. I told him that there was no need for him to have come all the way out here just for that. All he had to do was simply look in a mirror. He seemed confused by my remark, so I told him plainly that people don't come to places like this looking for true love. They come to forget about them. Or, at least, try to. I don't think he ever fully understood what I meant. He left shortly after that and I didn't see him again."

The girl sighed, her eyes flickering over Peter's hunched form.

"I guess it doesn't really matter now," she offered.

Peter was staring at the couch across from them, his expression had turned hard and thoughtful but his brows were crinkled with pain.

"Did he ever know how you felt?" The girl asked, her heart beginning to ache at the tragedy of it all.

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing again.

"I don't know," he choked out, his voice cracking more.

The girl just stared at Peter's profile, watching him fighting back the tears she knew would inevitably well over. It was horrible, really. She had only known Peter that one day all those years ago but she couldn't imagine anyone deserving something like this. No matter how terrible a person he had been in the past, he clearly had learned his lesson now and that should account for something.

The girl suddenly stood, smoothing down the bottom of her dress a bit before stepping over to the boy. Peter didn't even seem to notice her as she stood in front of him. She pulled a notepad out of her pocket along with a thin piece of charcoal and began scribbling something down. Once she had finished, she tore off the single sheet and placed the pad and the charcoal back into her pocket. She bent down and pushed the piece of paper into Peter's hand, straightening back up and waiting for his reaction.

It took the boy a moment to even register that the girl had put something in his hand. He looked down at the curvy hand writing briefly before turning his gaze up to her with a quizzical eyebrow raised. There were directions written on the paper but Peter couldn't understand where exactly the would lead. The girl just gazed down at him.

"I know someone that can help you," she began, taking a breath before continuing. "His name is Oz and he's the most powerful being in all the realms. He will grant one wish to anyone that is able to find his castle. I found him many years ago by accident and asked for eternal youth for both me and my girls here. We love our jobs and it's all that's ever mattered to us. He granted my request, clearly, and I know he'll grant yours as well. Bringing back a human life would be a very small feat in his eyes."

Peter just sat there and stared up at the girl. All kinds of emotions were running through his eyes but his expression remained neutral.

"What if he refuses?" He asked finally, his chest constricting.

The girl smiled a little and took his hands into hers.

"If you show him exactly what you've shown me, how much that boy means to you, he won't be able to refuse. Once he sees what a desperate state you're in without him, he'll grant your request. Oz has a weakness for true love," she replied with a humorous smirk.

Peter looked down at his hands in hers with the paper tucked in-between. He suddenly got to his feet and stepped forward, throwing his arms around the girl's shoulders.

"Oh," the girl breathed out in surprise at the sudden action, swaying backwards a little at the boy's weight.

She hesitated momentarily before finally wrapping her arms around the boy's chest and patting him soothingly on the back. A soft smile formed on her lips as she felt his body shutter with quiet cries.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. Several minutes at least. Long enough for Peter to stop shaking and pull back, wiping at his red eyes. The girl smiled at him gently, their eyes almost level with each other.

"I'll have to charge you for that hug," she said with amusement.

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes before smiling a little back. Now, THAT was the Peter she remembered.

The girl suddenly reached up and softly slapped the boy on the cheek, giving him a scolding expression. Peter's eyes widened in surprise before his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Don't do this again," the girl said firmly, holding a finger up at the boy. "Oz can only grant each person one wish. If you lose the boy again because of your stupidity, that's it. You won't be getting him back a third time. Don't screw this up."

Peter's lips quirked upwards into a tiny smirk and he shook his head briefly.

"I won't let go of him again," the boy vowed, his blue eyes suddenly flashing with a determined fire. "He's mine. Forever."

"Then make sure he knows that," the girl responded, her gaze still serious. "As soon as you see him, tell him exactly how you feel for him. Leave absolutely no room for doubts. It can't end like this again."

Peter nodded once and then gave the girl the first sincere smile she had ever seen cross his face.

"Thank you," he said, gazing into her bright green eyes.

She smiled softly back at him.

"You're welcome. Now, go get your happily ever after."


	2. Future Hope

The boy stood outside of the shimmering, crystal castle with an eyebrow raised quizzically. He looked down at the paper in his hand with the directions he had followed exactly scribbled out on it. He glanced back up at the castle and let out a displeased breath.

When Dorothy had told him the great and powerful Oz would grant a wish to anyone that could find him, the boy hadn't expected him to live in such a lavish home set right in a field of wildflowers that stretched on for miles. The castle was massive and shined so brightly, how could anyone NOT find him?

The brunette boy let out another quiet sigh. This Oz had better be as powerful as Dorothy had said or he would personally put an end to that girl's eternal youth.

The boy stepped up the translucent icy stairs and stood before the large crystal door that towered at least twenty feet high. He hesitated for only a moment before knocking three times. Everything was silent except for the sound of a gentle breeze ruffling the flower petals around him. The boy stood there for a good two minutes before scowling and knocking again with a bit more force. He hadn't traveled for five days just to have this... wizard thing be out running errands.

Another three minutes passed and the boy's irritation grew. He still had some magic left in him and he was just about to blow the door to pieces when he finally heard hurried footsteps on the other side.

The door clicked and then slowly eased open a crack. The boy furrowed his brows as he leaned a little to the side in order to see around the wide door. He thought he saw a brown eye peeking out at him from the shadows of the crack but it quickly disappeared as the door was suddenly pulled open all the way.

A tall, brunette man looking to be in his early thirties stood in the doorway. He was dressed quite formally with nice black slacks on and a white buttoned-up shirt. There was a simple gold band around the ring finger of his left hand. The boy noticed how ruffled his shirt was as if it had been thrown on in a hurry and his hair was slightly disheveled.

The man regarded the teenage boy in front of him cooly, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly at his haggard appearance. The boy was wearing a grungy looking pair of jeans and an equally dirty blue sweater that clung to his thin frame. Despite his sunken in face and clearly starved body, his blue eyes were bright and fierce as they sized the man up.

The two just stood there staring at each other for several long moments before the man finally spoke up.

"May I help you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and a suspicious tone to his voice.

"My name is Peter. Peter Pan," the boy began cautiously, still watching the man with mistrust. "I'm looking for Oz."

The man's brown eyes immediately warmed as a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, yes. Oz has been expecting you. Come inside."

The man took a step back in order to let Peter in. Despite the castle's magnificent outward appearance, the interior was much more simplistic. Plain wallpaper, carpeting and furnishings filled the spacious main room. Peter gazed around at the photos of two men hanging on the walls. He recognized one of them as the servant or... whatever he was. The other he had never seen before. Both men looked very happy in each of the pictures.

"Right this way," the man called out pleasantly from beside a wide staircase.

Peter followed him up the flight of stairs and then down a long hallway to a wooden door on the right.

"One moment please," the man said with a smile as he gently pushed open the door, stepped inside and then shut it soundly behind him.

Peter raised an eyebrow when he heard voices on the other side and leaned in with his ear pressed against the door. His curiosity always got the best of him.

"I thought you were getting dressed," the man's voice came out with an exasperated sigh.

"I am dressed," another man's voice stated in reply, higher in pitch than the other one and filled with offense.

"You're wearing THAT?" The first one asked with clear disdain.

"Yes, I'm wearing THIS. We haven't had a visitor in twenty years. I have to look my best. Besides, Dorothy said this boy was quite the looker. I may have to trade you in on a newer model."

A giggly laugh quickly followed lasting for several moments.

"Oh, don't make that face," the second man finally continued still giddy. "I was just kidding with you. My word! When did you become such a stick in the mud?"

Peter heard a sigh from the other side of the door as it was suddenly pulled open. He quickly leaned back, noticing the butler step to the side a little and then motion with his arm over at a large white sofa. A brunette man with green eyes was sitting straight up on the couch, one leg crossed over the other and his fingers laced together resting on his knee. He appeared to be in his late thirties, possibly early forties, and was grinning warmly when Peter entered the room, his eyes bright. Peter immediately recognized him as the other man from the pictures downstairs.

He was dressed in a very elaborate navy blue jacket with matching slacks. All kinds of golden and intricate embroidery covered the two pieces. There were several golden and silver earrings lining the man's ears as well. Peter noticed the simple, gold band on his left ring finger among all the other large, jeweled rings covering his fingers. It perfectly matched the one the other man had on his hand.

The man's eyes actually widened as Peter stepped into the room and the servant closed the door behind him. He got to his feet, arms spreading out in surprise as he quickly made his way over to where Peter stood.

"You must be Peter," he proclaimed with a light and airy tone, grasping the boy's hands in his own. "My! Dorothy wasn't lying when she said you were a cutie. How old are you again?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively before letting out a giddy laugh. The other man rolled his eyes and heaved a quiet sigh. "Kidding, kidding!"

Peter forced his lips upwards into an almost pained smile, silently pleading that this wasn't the Oz he was supposed to speak with.

"All jokes aside," the man continued with a delighted grin, still clutching the boy's hands. "My name is Oz, the Great and Powerful!" He released one of Peter's hands and motioned dramatically in the air. "Dorothy tells me you have a bit of an issue that needs immediate resolving. Unfortunately, she told me absolutely nothing about this problem, so you'll have to fill me in on all the juicy details. I certainly hope it has something to do with your eating habits because, judging from your outward appearance, that seems to be an issue that would require immediate attention."

Peter had to force himself not to scowl. Dorothy had failed to mention that Oz was such a... chatty and flamboyant character. A personality Peter had often found difficult to get along with. Peter had always had Felix around and the blonde hadn't been much of a talker. He was logical and calculating, silent and brooding, and Peter had loved all of it. He suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through him and he quickly shook his head ever so slightly. He was there to get Felix back. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

"Actually," Peter began, looking Oz straight in the eyes, "my current physical health has very little to do with my eating habits." He paused to take a breath. "How do you feel about bringing back a human life?"

Oz furrowed his brows in confusion for a moment before they suddenly shot up on his forehead in surprise. He let out a muffled gasp as he clasped his free hand over his mouth, still clutching onto Peter's hand with the other.

"Oh my goodness," he slowly breathed out in shock. "I'm actually appalled with myself for not noticing it sooner. The weary gaze, the sunken eyes, the deathly thin body. THIS is a boy that has lost his very reason for existing! How exciting! Come, come! Tell me all about this special person!"

Oz tugged Peter over to the white sofa and promptly sat down at one end, crossing his legs and then resting his arm on the back of the seat. He stared at Peter with wide eyes and an eager grin, waiting expectantly for the romantic love story that would certainly follow.

Peter just stood by the sofa for a moment, trying to figure the man out. Why should it matter to Oz what kind of history he had with Felix? Couldn't this wizard just grant his wish and be done with it?

Peter heaved out a quiet sigh and finally lowered himself down onto the opposite end of the sofa. The other man from earlier remained standing at the other end of the room, seeming content to stay there.

Several moments passed in silence as Oz and Peter just studied each other. Finally, the man spoke up.

"Well? Boy or girl?" He asked, still grinning widely.

Peter sighed again, already feeling a headache coming on. He knew exactly where this was going.

"Uh... a boy," he finally muttered, looking at the bare, white wall opposite of the sofa. Peter grimaced when he heard the sharp squeal beside him.

"I knew it!" The man exclaimed in delight, yanking a fist through the air victoriously. He quickly cleared his throat, regaining his composure, and gave Peter a more somber expression. "A brother or...?"

Peter clenched and unclenched his fingers resting in his lap.

"A friend," he stated firmly.

Oz quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Now, are we talking about a friend or a "friend?"" He asked, making quotation marks in the air.

Peter narrowed his eyes, annoyance beginning to bubble up inside of him.

"Can you bring back a human life or not?" He demanded, turning a glare onto the man beside him.

"Of course I can," Oz replied with a scoff. Peter felt himself soften at the confidant words. "Before I go bringing anybody back from the dead though, you're gonna have to tell me a bit more about this boy. You say he's a friend but judging by your defensive posture and your feeble state, he must have been more than a friendly acquaintance. You wouldn't be such a wreak nor would you come all this way if he didn't mean something dearly to you. I have a hunch you don't do much for mere friends."

Peter's eyes were hard as they bored into the man's emerald gaze.

"What do you want?" Peter growled through clenched teeth.

Oz leaned in closer to the boy, his voice quiet but firm.

"I want you to tell me why this boy deserves his life back. Resurrecting a person is a pretty large order from any standpoint. I, personally, don't believe in meddling in fate's affairs. If this boy died from illness, then who am I to change destiny? If he was killed in battle, is it really my place to say it was a mistake? I want you to make me want him back as badly as you clearly do."

The two just stared at each other for a long time. For some reason, Peter felt incredibly defensive and on edge. He had never spoke of his relationship with Felix to anyone, not even the blonde himself. For this person to be demanding clarification on it was irritating to say the least. Peter had never been completely sure himself how he felt for the other boy.

Well... No, that wasn't entirely true. He knew EXACTLY how he felt for Felix. He was just having trouble admitting it. He had come to terms with the fact that their relationship wasn't just about friendship long ago but to accept it as love was still hard for the boy to fathom. When he had taken Felix's heart, he had brushed off his feelings as that of gratitude for the blonde's devoted loyalty but as soon as he had crushed the heart into fine ash and felt Felix's life slip through his fingers, he knew that wasn't it either.

Peter was the first to turn away, not wanting the man to see the sudden pain that flashed through his eyes. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"His name was Felix and his death was not fate or destiny. It was the only mistake I have ever made."

Oz quirked his eyebrows with surprise and interest as the boy recounted how he and Felix had made it to Stroybrooke and then how the curse had been enacted.

"I didn't know beforehand what the price of the curse was," Peter continued, keeping his eyes downcast on the floor. "By the time I had figured it out, there was no turning back. I had to go through with it or risk losing my power. Love is the greatest weakness known to man. I had to be rid of that one problem if I was ever going to achieve eternal power."

"And why did you want this power so badly?" Oz asked, furrowing his brows.

Peter crinkled his as well in confusion as he looked over at the man. Why would he ask something like that? Power was everything. Oz of all people should understand that.

"Did you think it would make you happy?" Oz pressed.

Peter turned his quizzical gaze back down at the floor. Did he think it would make him happy? Power wasn't about happiness, it was about being in control. Although, Peter guessed that he had thought at some point that would make him happy.

"Now, I know a little something-something about power myself," Oz continued with a gentle smile. "And of all the things it can do, make you happy is not one of them. I think you figured that out yourself though, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here with me. You would have gone back to your Neverland world and made a new life for yourself reigning supreme in a place you still had ultimate control. There would have been other children, after all. Yet, here you sit. Why?"

Peter breathed out heavily, his chest shaking a little, and raised his eyes to look at the wall opposite of them, waiting for the man to continue.

"You say love is man's greatest weakness but I'd care to spin it in the other direction. Love is man's greatest strength because it gives him the courage to do all things. Your love gave you the courage to leave your home and to plan for a new and better life. It even gave you the strength to rip out your love's own heart and crush it. Power is nothing, my boy. Love is everything."

Oz suddenly motioned at Peter's hunched form.

"I mean, just look at the weakened state you're in without it. I would hedge to say that you haven't been worse off in your entire existence. Loss of power didn't do that to you. The loss of your love did and that, dear child, is why you sit here today because you have absolutely nothing left to live for if this boy isn't by your side."

Peter breathed in then, looking over at the man with heart wrenching hope filling his eyes.

"Then you'll bring him back?" He asked quietly.

"Uh-uh," Oz cautioned, holding a finger up and smiling at the boy. "You've only told me how this Felix died. I want to know how he lived. What made him so special that without him you are nothing but a shell before me?"

Peter rolled his eyes and scoffed a little in amusement.

"You just want to hear a love story," he remarked with a tiny smirk.

"I do so enjoy a good love story," Oz giggled. "I don't get to hear very many of them these days."

Peter smiled sadly as he gazed down at the floor again.

"He was everything to me," he stated quietly.

Peter told Oz everything he could possibly remember about Felix. From the first day they met to the very last day they were together. Oz listened patiently, grimacing a bit at the gory battle scenes. Violence was something Felix and Peter had bonded over rather quickly. Going through their long history together hadn't been as difficult on Peter emotionally as he had expected. It was when Oz asked about who Felix was as a person when Peter felt his heart constrict.

"He was... loyal to a fault, clearly, but he wasn't stupid." Peter spoke quietly as he stared down at the floor, his eyes narrowed with pain. "Definitely not stupid. He was the voice of reason whenever I would get some wild idea in my head but he always went along with it. He was always up for anything I wanted to do. It was..." He paused to take a deep breath. "It was nice having someone that was so willing to be there for me. He was different than the other boys. The other boys always felt they didn't belong on Neverland and they didn't. Not completely, anyway. They had homes and families they wanted to get back to eventually but Felix was different. His home was there on Neverland. I was his family and he was mine. We belonged together."

Peter swallowed and took another shaky breath.

"I guess we always knew that in a way. That everything would be fine as long as we were together. Even when we left Neverland and went to Storybrooke, it didn't feel like anything had changed. If anything, I felt relieved to not have to deal with those other boys anymore. Felix was the only one I wanted and, even in that town, he still followed my every word. It was... I guess an eyeopener for me. On Neverland, part of me always assumed he was devoted to me simply because I was in control of the island. I was powerful there. In that young boy's body in Storybrooke though, I had nothing. I didn't have magic or power or control over anything. Yet, he still stayed with me."

Peter furrowed his brows in confusion as he kept his gaze locked on the floor, tears beginning to well-up in his eyes.

"That was when I realized that he was never with me because of my power," he chocked out, his voice cracking as a tear slowly spilled down his cheek. "He just wanted me."

Peter placed his hands over his face, his back hunched and shaking as quiet sobs wracked his thin body. Oz immediately scooted over, wrapping his arms around the boy's shoulders in a comforting hug. Even the other man walked over quietly and placed a hand on the boy's back, rubbing it soothingly. Oz could feel tears springing to his own eyes as well as Peter continued.

"I knew if I didn't rip his heart out right then, I wouldn't be able to," he sobbed, his voice muffled by his hands. "He was trying to say something to me but I didn't want to hear it. I couldn't because I knew exactly what it would be and I wouldn't be able to go through with it if he told me he loved me right then."

Peter just sat there, his body shaking as tears continued to fall down his cheeks and into his hands. Tears were spilling down Oz's face as well as he kept his arms wrapped around Peter. He reached one of his hands down and grasped onto the other man's that had been on Peter's back because he just needed to feel that his husband was still there, still holding it together when Oz couldn't.

After several minutes, Peter had finally stopped shaking, wiping at his tear stained face and clearing his throat before speaking again.

"I don't believe in regrets or mistakes because everything I've ever done has led me to where I am. But crushing Felix's heart was the most... selfish and stupid thing I have ever done. Not a second goes by that I don't wish it had been my heart that had been crushed to ash that day. He deserved better than that. He deserved better than falling in love with someone like me. I just-"

"Shh," Oz hushed, putting a finger up to Peter's lips and pulling back a little from the hug so he could look at the boy. Peter looked over at him with a bit of confusion as Oz smiled warmly at him, his face just as tear stained as Peter's.

"I'm sorry, love, but I can't take much more of this," the man apologized, sniffling and wiping at his own cheeks. "Alright. You've convinced me. Bailey, go get that bottle in the other room. The one with the pink liquid and the wooden- Oh, you know which one I'm talking about!"

The other man, Bailey, smiled softly at Oz before turning and heading out of the room. He returned a few minutes later carrying a small, glass vial filled with a dark pink liquid.

"That's the one!" Oz exclaimed in delight, taking the container from Bailey.

He studied the liquid for a moment before shaking it up a little and then handing it to Peter.

"There you are," he said with a warm grin, patting the boy's shoulder.

Peter sniffed and held the vial up to the light, squinting his eyes a little at it.

"What do I do? Drink it?" He asked, lowering the jar back down to his lap.

"Oh, heavens, no!" Oz quickly exclaimed, a bit of panic filling his voice. "Do NOT drink it! As painful as it is to say, it's actually good that you're... familiar with taking out hearts because you'll need to remove your own and pour this over it. This potion will give you back the person you love the most and I have no doubts who that is."

Peter looked down at the bottle before quirking his lips upwards at the mention of the person he loved most. It looked like every curse really could be broken with something. He raised an eyebrow at the man beside him.

"You're sure this will work?"

"Absolutely! You just have to believe," Oz chimed, poking Peter's nose affectionately.

Peter chuckled a little and then gave the man a look of sincere gratitude.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his gaze meeting Oz's emerald orbs.

"You're very welcome," the man responded with equal sincerity.

It was strange how helpful both Dorothy and Oz had been to Peter. It felt weird having people aid Peter out of the goodness of their hearts instead of fear. He wondered briefly if he had somehow grown soft in Felix's absence. Perhaps it was the loss of his love that made him seem more human and approachable. He wasn't the all-powerful, demented ruler of Neverland anymore. He was simply a boy with a broken heart.

Peter studied Oz for a moment longer before leaning over and wrapping his arms around the neck. Oz was a bit surprised by the action but gladly accepted the hug with a squeeze of his own back.

All of this hugging people, Peter thought with a bit of disgust at himself, pulling back from the man. Maybe he really had grown soft without Felix.

Peter stood then, stuffing the little vial in his jeans' pocket and heading for the door of the room. That was when Oz's voice suddenly rang out from where he was still seated on the sofa.

"Oh, by the way! There is one last little thing you need to do for me."

Peter's hand was on the doorknob as he turned to look back at the two men with a suspicious eyebrow raised.

"What?" He asked warily.

"You have to promise to invite us to your wedding," Oz gushed, biting his bottom lip with suppressed excitement and tugging on Bailey's hand. Bailey smiled softly in amusement and rolled his eyes as he stood beside the man.

Peter felt a warm smile tug at the corners of his lips as he gazed at the two husbands.

"Of course."


	3. Lovely Memories

It was late evening about a week later when the brunette boy finally stood in the outlying forest of the small town. He could have gotten there much sooner if it hadn't been for the overwhelming sense of dread that had plagued him since leaving the powerful wizard's home.

Whenever he would stop for the night to rest, he would pull out the little pink vial and think. His mind would always fill with concerning thoughts. He wasn't worried for his own safety or that the potion wouldn't work. No, his greatest fear was that it WOULD work and he would be forced to face the one person he felt he had ever truly made a mistake with. It was... quite unnerving, to say the least.

During those long, sleepless nights, he often wondered what he would say to the boy when they met again. He must have played through hundreds of potential conversations in his head over the course of that painful week. Some of the conversations ended well with the blonde vowing the same devotion to his leader that he had always promised in the past. He understood that all magic came with a price and if that price was his heart, then that had been just fine with him. Anything to make his leader happy.

The brunette even allowed his mind to wander very briefly into the realm of fantasy where the blonde would express how much he still loved the other boy despite everything that had transpired. The two would end up happily together living comfortably in another realm somewhere far away. It was a very pleasant thought despite it's very slim chance of actually occurring.

Most of the scenarios didn't go quite that smoothly.

In almost all of those first conversations the boy imagined, things rarely worked out in his favor. The blonde would bring up how he had always been there for the other and how he had followed him devotedly even unto his death. And that was how he was repaid? By being disposed of so quickly without a second thought?

Sometimes the blonde would yell and fight, anger being the overwhelming emotion that bubbled up inside of his newly revitalized heart. Other times he would simply say nothing at all, allowing the brunette to make his excuses before turning and merely walking away.

That was the scenario that was the most painful because it was the one the boy felt he had the least amount of control over and the one he worried was the most likely to occur.

If the blonde argued and accused him of so many wrongs, he could easily reason his way out of it. If they fought, well, they had done that numerous times in the past. The silence was what scared him the most because it said everything the other boy refused to. And if the blonde simply let the silence speak for him and then walked away, there was nothing the other boy could do. It was almost funny in a way to think that the one quality the brunette had always loved in the other male would be the one thing he dreaded the most upon their first meeting.

All of those negative thoughts almost made the boy not want to use the potion at all. Almost. He considered simply leaving things the way they were. That might have been the easiest short term solution but, in the long run, he knew not having the blonde at least alive would destroy him from the inside out.

Thus, he had finally worked up the courage and resolve to venture into the small town of Storybrooke. Oz hadn't said he needed to be in the place the boy had died but the brunette figured that would give the potion the greatest chance of working. Not that he was completely certain he even wanted the liquid to work.

He was a little surprised the town was still intact. He thought the queen had destroyed the place to end the curse the boy had enacted. He didn't think too much on it, however. The most important thing was that the town was still there and that gave him more confidence in the potion's success.

He thought about going to the well where everything had happened but figured that would bring up too many memories in itself and decided to just pick a quiet clearing in the heart of the woods. The forest reminded him of Neverland, of better times he and the blonde had together. Perhaps that would help spin their first conversation in a more favorable direction.

The boy just stood there for a few moments listening to the gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees. The moon was bright that evening, bathing the forest in a hazy glow. He pulled the bottle from his jeans' pocket and held it up. The pink liquid almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. He wasn't sure if that was a good omen or not.

He sucked in a sharp breath as he transferred the vial to his other hand. He could feel his pulse quicken as he continued to gaze at the liquid. Surely he wasn't getting nervous about pulling his own heart out. No. It was the meeting he knew would soon take place that made his anxiety spike.

He took one more deep breath before placing his hand up to his chest and then pushing through his shirt, skin, and ribs in order to grasp onto the beating object. He tugged on it firmly and gasped when pain wrenched through him as he pulled the still beating heart from his own body.

He took a few more deep breaths as the pain subsided and just gazed at the muscle. It was almost completely black, darkened from all the years of suffering and agony he had caused countless people with zero remorse. There was one, very small bright spot still remaining that had yet to succumb to the cold blackness. He wondered briefly how that could possibly still be there after all these years and his mind instantly wandered to the blonde male, the very reason he was even standing there right then.

The boy was probably just imagining it but he thought he saw the spot grow ever so slightly.

He looked at the glass vial in his other hand and brought it up to his mouth. He bit onto the wooden cork in the top and gently tugged on it until it popped out, careful not to spill any of the pink liquid or get any of it in his mouth. He remembered Oz's panic when the boy had mentioned drinking it.

He studied the bottle for a few more moments before sucking in a deep breath and pouring the liquid over the heart in his hand. The liquid fizzled and sparked as it dripped off of the muscle and then suddenly flashed.

The boy let out a sharp cry and collapsed onto his knees, doubled over and clutching at his chest in pain. The heart and bottle fell to the ground, both rolling a little ways away, as the blackened muscle now searing pink and red began to burn. White flames leaped from the heart as it shuddered and constricted. It was like someone had taken a blow torch to his heart and was cooking him alive. It was the worst pain the boy had ever experienced.

His cries caught in his throat as he struggled for air, his gasping breathes getting weaker by the second. His entire body trembled as he just lay crippled on the ground. He wasn't sure how much longer he could remain conscious.

A dark pink cloud of smoke suddenly wafted over the boy, thickening the air and making it even more difficult to breathe. The boy looked up, still clutching at his chest and trying desperately to suck in a breath of air. The smoke was thick and heavy, making it impossible to see even a foot in front of him. He could still hear the sizzle and pop of the liquid as it continued to burn his heart.

After what felt like several minutes, the smoke slowly began to dissipate and the boy was finally able to raise his head ever so slightly as the burning in his heart subsided. His blue eyes widened in shock and he sucked in a sharp, painful breath at the figure suddenly standing not ten feet away.

He looked exactly the same way the brunette remembered him, only without the crippling fear in his gaze. Disheveled blonde hair, silver eyes that looked very confused in that moment, the crossed scars under his right eye glinted softly in the moonlight. He was wearing the exact same clothing he had been wearing the day they left Neverland. The brunette couldn't remember him ever looking as good as he did in that moment.

"Felix," he finally managed to breath out, still clutching at his chest and his eyes filling with emotion.

The blonde had been studying his hands with confusion but his gaze immediately lifted at the sound of the all too familiar voice. His silver eyes collided with wide blue ones and the two just stared at each for several long moments.

"Peter?" Felix asked, his voice barely a murmur and his eyes wide with emotion. The most predominant one being uncertainty.

The brunette smiled a very tiny bit to himself. None of the emotions that passed through the other's eyes were anger or resentment. Perhaps this first conversation would go better than Peter had imagined.

"Wha... What am I doing here?" Felix stumbled out, his gaze questioning as they searched Peter's eyes.

The brunette slowly pushed himself up onto his feet, still feeling weak from the intense pain he had just experienced moments ago. His heart lay between the two boys, quietly pumping as if nothing had happened.

Peter leaned back against the tree behind him for support as he forced a tiny smirk onto his lips.

"Pan never fails," he stated with the faintest hint of amusement.

His joke fell on deaf ears, however, as Felix's expression remained unchanged. They both knew he was lying. Peter had failed. Not just with the curse but with Felix as well.

The brunette let out a very quiet sigh as his smirk slid from his face and his gaze shifted to the heart lying on the ground. He wouldn't be teasing his way out of this one.

The two were silent for several moments as Peter took a deep breath.

"Soon after your death," he began quietly, his gaze staying lowered. "I was transported back to the Enchanted Forest. The curse had a... weakness I hadn't anticipated. The queen was able to put a stop to it and I was sent back to the other realm." He paused, looking up to meet the blonde's gaze. "After losing you, it was like everything fell apart. I knew as soon as I crushed your heart that I had made an... error in judgement. I've spent the last few weeks trying to correct that mistake."

Felix listened silently as Peter told him how he had gone to Rumplestiltskin's mother because he had nobody else he could turn to for help. Dorothy had noticed the miserable state he was in and took pity on him. She told him of a powerful wizard that could help give Peter back what he so desperately missed.

Peter told of how he had journeyed to Oz's castle, how the man had been one of the most annoying people he had ever met but he had put up with the flamboyant character because he knew if anyone would be able to bring Felix back to him, it would be Oz. He discovered the man and his husband weren't as bad as he had initially thought.

He told the blonde about the potion and the journey he had undertaken in order to get back to Storybrooke, carefully skipping over the pathetic nights he had laid awake thinking about this very conversation.

He described ripping out his own heart and the searing pain the potion had brought on him when he poured the liquid over it. That was why he was in such a sad state right then. Well... that and the fact that he hadn't exactly been brimming with health to begin with.

"That potion brings back the person you love the most," Peter concluded, his eyes soft as they bored into Felix's emotionless orbs. He remembered what Dorothy had said to him about how he needed to tell Felix exactly how he felt about him as soon as he had the other boy back in his reach.

"That person is still you," he breathed out, his eyes filling with emotion. "And it always will be. I... I love you. Not because of your loyalty or your friendship or any of that nonsense. I just said all of that to make enacting the curse less painful for me. I love you for you. That's why you're here right now."

Peter released a quiet breath, relief flooding him at finally being able to tell the other boy exactly what he meant to him. But his relief was only momentary as the silence stretched on.

Felix had lowered his gaze to stare at the ground, his emotionless eyes and blank expression giving away none of his feelings. Both boys could hear Peter's heart quicken as the minutes ticked on. Peter felt completely foolish for the sudden anxiety that welled up in him. He knew silence was what he would most likely be met with during this conversation. He had mentally been preparing himself for it for the past week. But the thought of Felix's next move being to turn and walk away from him made his heart constrict painfully. He couldn't remember ever being this vulnerable and unsure about anything in his life.

After a long time, Felix finally met Peter's worried gaze, the blonde's silver eyes were cold and Peter's heart lurched in panic. What would he do if the boy really did walk away? Or worse. What would he do if Felix said he had never loved him at all? That his emotions for the leader had been nothing but mere loyalty to a cause he had at one time felt was worthy. Right before Peter had ripped Felix's heart out, he had told the blonde he loved him in so many words but he had refused to wait around for an answer. Now, he was desperately wishing he had.

Felix just stared at Peter for a long moment before finally opening his mouth to speak.

"You don't love me," he said simply, shaking his head a little, his eyes were cold but held a deeper pain behind them. "You love yourself."

The confusion registered immediately on Peter's face. Out of all the hundreds of scenarios he had imagined, Felix stating that Peter didn't love him was one he hadn't expected. At least not after explaining everything to the boy. Sure the blonde might have felt unloved initially after being brought back but certainly not after Peter finally had expressed his feelings. Did he think Peter was trying to manipulate him?

"I don't love you?" He asked quietly, his eyebrows furrowing. "I don't love you?" He repeated, his voice rising as confusion gave way to anger. How could Felix possibly be that stupid?!

"I just-" Peter stopped himself, one hand stretched out towards the heart lying on the ground while the other hand was pressed to his temple. His mouth hung open a little in shock and his eyes began to burn with anger as they bored into those cold silver ones.

"I-" Peter stopped himself once more, turning his head to glare at the ground, trying desperately to keep his rage in check. He feared he might lunge at Felix and strangle him if he continued to look at the blonde. Peter didn't think strangling him to death would be the best thing to do after just getting him back.

Peter opened and shut his mouth a few times, shaking his head as he fought the anger raging inside of him. He finally looked back up at Felix. The blonde hadn't walked away yet, so that was something. He was just standing there with those same emotionless eyes, waiting for Peter to convince him of how wrong he was. Peter's gaze locked onto the scar under Felix's eye and he felt his rage diminish ever so slightly.

"That scar on your face," Peter said, forcing his voice to remain even as he pointed at the blonde. "Do you remember how you got that? It was fifty-two years after you and I had been on Neverland and I was starting to bring in more and more Lost Boys to live with us. You were burning with jealousy and you thought you were hiding it so well. All those years it had just been us, you could never hear the music I played on my pipes. Then, all of a sudden, you could. It infuriated me to think that you no longer felt you belonged there just because of a few rowdy, teenage boys I never cared the least about.

It was a night just like this one when I pushed you against a tree and slashed my dagger across your face. Do you remember what I said to you as blood poured down your cheek? I said, "Whenever you touch your face, whenever you look at your reflection in the water, whenever those cuts burn or ache, think about me and know that nobody will ever be as important to me as you are." Then I put a spell on those scars just to make sure they would never fully heal so you would never be able to forget about me."

Felix's gaze had shifted to the heart on the ground as Peter spoke in a firm and quiet voice. Peter continued after a moment of silence, his voice growing slightly more light.

"And those two tiny wounds on your left arm, do you remember how you got those? I had sent some of the boys out to hunt and they brought back a dead wild hog and a live rabbit. The younger ones asked if they could keep the rabbit. I told them, "Sure, you can keep it! In your bellies because it's going to be our dinner." Of course they whined about how we already had the hog and didn't need the rabbit. Then one of the littlest boys said, "But we've already named him." And I said, "Oh? And what did you name him?" Imagine my surprise when the boy replied, "Felix." I didn't expect the young ones to be that clever just yet."

Peter was smirking a little in amusement. He noticed Felix's lips twitch upwards just a tiny bit at the memory.

"I told the boys that we were left with two options then. Either keep Felix or get rid of him. I walked over to you and asked the boys what I should do with our dear Felix. They all declared that I should keep him. Thus, we did and it was all great fun, all the jokes we made about the two Felix's, until approximately four weeks later when we discovered Felix was a girl and she had six baby rabbits right there in the middle of our camp."

Felix finally allowed a smirk to cross his lips as he continued to stare at the ground so Peter wouldn't see the amusement in his eyes. Peter sneered a little in disgust.

"That was when the younger boys started asking all those questions." The brunette's voice turned mocking as he continued. ""Peter, how are babies made?" "Peter, how come girls can have babies but boys can't?" "Peter, if Felix is a girl, does that mean Felix is a girl too?" I finally got sick of all the questions and told you to take all those rabbits out into the woods and dispose of them. Do you remember what you did? You took them out into the forest and simply let them go. We didn't speak of it again."

Peter paused as the lighthearted feeling in the air slowly grew tense again. He didn't want things to become uncomfortable just yet though.

"And those scrapes on your knuckles, do you remember how you got those? You got those when Curly called me an ass and you beat the crap out of him."

Peter noticed Felix's smirk widen ever so slightly at the memory. Peter smirked as well as he continued. "It took all five of the older boys to drag you off of him. Curly's nose never did heal properly. He landed a few good punches on you as well. I healed those but left the ones on your hands as a reminder. I didn't need you to defend me, you knew that, but it was nice all the same."

There was another pause.

"I think I paid you back for that during a fight with a band of pirates. One of them stabbed you in the side with his sword and I was so furious that I personally slit every one of their throats. Then I strung them up by their ankles from the masts of the ship and let their blood completely drain out onto the deck before sending the ship back to the Enchanted Forest. NOBODY touches what's mine," Peter growled, his voice low and threatening at the memory of the underhanded trick that had led to Felix being injured in the first place.

Felix's expression turned solemn once more as another tense silence filled the space between the two boys. Peter just gazed at the blonde before taking a deep breath.

"That scar on your chest is from when I made the one decision I have ever truly regretted in my life. I thought power was what made me happy, was the reason I awoke every morning ready to tackle a new day, was the thing that gave my life its purpose." He paused to lock gazes with the blonde once more. "But it wasn't. Power is nothing. Love is everything."

Peter's eyes narrowed as he pointed at himself and then continued in a low voice. "And this scar on my chest is from when I tore out my very heart just to get that love back."

He stepped forward, ignoring his heart on the ground and walking confidently up to Felix. He stopped only inches away from him. Peter's eyes were burning as he just stared up into the blonde's silver orbs for a few moments. When he finally spoke, Peter's voice was little more than a whispered hiss.

"Don't you dare tell me that I don't love you."

Peter continued to stare at Felix for another moment before turning and walking out of the clearing, leaving his heart exactly where it lay. Felix let out a slightly shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding and glanced back down at the beating muscle. He hesitantly stepped over to it, picking the heart up gently in his hands, and slowly headed off in the direction Peter had gone.

/

Felix found Peter about an hour later seated on the cliffside overlooking Storybrooke. The very place they had first discussed becoming rulers of the little town. The moonlight was bouncing off of his form, making the boy look even more surreal than usual. Felix smiled a little to himself, cradling the heart closer to his own body.

Peter had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed and his lips a hard line as if he were waiting for a date that was taking too long to get dressed. Felix quietly sat down beside him, leaving about a foot of space between the two boys. He held the heart in his hands, gingerly resting it in his lap. Somehow feeling the warm pulse beneath his palms made him relax.

"Took you long enough," Peter growled, wiping at a spot of dirt on his knee before crossing his arms again. He kept his eyes forward, refusing to even look at the other male.

Felix smirked just a tiny bit. Of course Peter knew Felix would follow him. Even after everything that had happened, neither boy could give the other up quite that easily.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes just listening to the steady pumping of the heart. Peter suddenly held his hand out towards the blonde.

"May I have that back?" He asked, not looking at the boy.

Felix gently placed the heart into Peter's hand, feeling slightly disappointed to not have the warmth of it anymore.

Peter looked at the muscle for a few moments, noticing how the originally very tiny bright spot on the blackened form had grown considerably. Almost half the heart now glowed with a ruby light. Peter's cold, blue eyes softened just a touch at the thought of what had caused the sudden change. Being willing to sacrifice himself so his love could live must have counted for something. No wonder Felix's heart hadn't been blackened when Peter had ripped it out.

Peter shook his head ever so slightly before pushing the heart back into his own chest with a quiet grunt. Its warmth immediately filled his body and he could almost still feel the touch of Felix's hands on it.

The two sat in silence for a few moments. Felix looked down at his hands resting in his lap before glancing over at Peter.

"I bet you know exactly what I was going to say to you at the well before you ripped my heart out, don't you?" He asked.

Peter swallowed, shifting a bit uncomfortably at the suddenly tense atmosphere.

"You would have told me you loved me," he responded.

Felix smiled a little and shook his head.

"No. I would have told you to go right ahead and do whatever you intended. But, first, I would have asked you to remember something as well. I recall getting these scars on my face a bit differently than you do. It's true that I hadn't been happy with all the new boys coming into the camp and maybe I did start to feel unloved. That wasn't what set you off though. What infuriated you was how some of the boys clung to me, even the older ones. You thought a few of them were getting a little too friendly. That was when you cornered me in the forest and slashed my face. These cuts weren't meant to be a reminder to me because you knew I would never be able to forget about you, nor would I ever want to. These scars were meant to be a reminder to them of who I belonged to. When they looked at my face, they were supposed to see yours."

Peter just sat there in silence looking out over the town. He wasn't used to Felix telling him about his own motivations.

"That's why I took your heart so quickly," Peter finally responded, looking down at his lap. "I wouldn't have been able to take it at all if you had brought up something like that."

A steady silence fell upon the two boys.

"Well, now what?" Felix asked, looking over at Peter with a tiny smirk. The same way he would always look at Peter whenever he was awaiting a command from his leader.

Peter raised an eyebrow at him slightly in surprise, feeling a painful rush of hope enter his heart.

"You... still want to stay with me?" He asked cautiously. "After... everything?"

"I thought I belonged to you," Felix responded, his eyebrows furrowing a little at the question. He immediately smirked again though to show that he was teasing.

Peter studied the boy's lighthearted expression with a bit of wariness. Had he really already forgiven Peter for killing him. Just like that? This went well beyond abusive relationship and Peter wondered briefly how stable Felix's mind really was.

Peter thought about all the things he had reminded Felix of earlier that evening and all the things he hadn't mentioned. He allowed a tiny smile to form on his own lips as well. Of course Felix's mind wasn't stable. What kind of sane person would choose to spend two hundred years with somebody like Peter? And what kind of sane person would choose to be with Peter even after he crushed their heart?

No. There was no question that Felix wasn't all there but Peter probably wasn't all there either and that was just fine. Together, they completed each other and that was all that mattered.

Peter looked over at Felix.

"That you do," he finally replied.

Felix's smirk melted into a tiny, sincere smile.

"Then I will follow you wherever you go."

Peter suddenly got to his feet and stretched.

"Well, you know, I'm not your leader anymore," he commented, stepping lightly between Felix's legs and then setting himself down with his back resting against the blonde's chest and his legs dangling over the cliff's edge. Felix immediately wrapped his arms around the boy's abdomen, holding him tightly against his body. "You can spout off some ideas yourself and then I'll decide what sounds good or not."

Felix smirked a little in amusement, nuzzling his scarred cheek against Peter's affectionately.

"I suppose we could always stay here," Felix stated, his voice didn't sound very pleased with the notion though.

Peter wrinkled his nose.

"There are too many annoyances here. Pick something else," he ordered.

Felix thought about it for a moment.

"We could go back to Neverland. It would just be us again."

Peter could hear how much the thought appealed to the blonde. He liked the idea himself but, now that he had finally managed to get off the island, he wasn't in too big of a hurry to return. He wanted to do more adventuring than that. Especially if the two boys would start aging normally again.

"How about we go steal one of those portal recipes from my son and travel to a completely different realm?" Peter suggested with a quirked eyebrow. He waved his hand about. "I still have a little magic left in me. It would be very simple."

"You won't be needing my heart for that recipe, will you?" Felix asked with a slightly teasing tone, cocking an eyebrow as well.

Peter grinned and patted the boy on his other cheek before getting to his feet once more and turning to look down at the blonde.

"Now, Felix, you know I can't promise you that. I will ALWAYS need your heart," Peter remarked, his eyebrows rising innocently. Felix rolled his eyes. "I do promise to at least let you kiss me good-bye next time though."

Felix snorted and got to his feet as well. He placed his hands on Peter's hips and backed up a step, pulling the boy against his body as well. Now that Felix had Peter with him again, he was feeling incredibly protective of the shorter boy's life. They didn't need to stand that close to the cliff's edge.

Peter noticed Felix's sudden cautiousness but simply smiled up at him, tugging a little on the blonde's shirt.

"I might even let you kiss me other times as well," he remarked, pulling a bit more on Felix's shirt.

Felix smiled softly at Peter's mischievous blue eyes before tilting his head down and pressing his lips firmly against his. Peter pushed upwards into the kiss, feeling the happiest he had been in the last few weeks. Possibly even in his entire life. Their first conversation had been a greater success than he could have ever imagined. Then again, was that really such a surprise? After all, Pan never fails.


End file.
